


This Is Halloween Everyday

by fields_of_falafel



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Ghost!AU, Ghosts, Joncer - Freeform, M/M, Peterick, Ryden, either way i'll tag it, major character death but not really since ryan is already dead, only certain people can see ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4743230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fields_of_falafel/pseuds/fields_of_falafel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon Urie is spending a normal Tuesday night alone in the library working on a project when he suddenly finds himself face to face with a ghost named Ryan Ross.</p><p>A/N: on a mini-hiatus because of school stuff but hope to have a chapter up sometime in december (i'm so sorry ily all)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why Is There A Ghost In The Library?

Great. Just fucking great. Here Brendon was, sitting in the middle of the library working on a project that was due the next day at 8:30 on a Tuesday night. The librarian had already left several hours before, showing him how to lock the door when he left. The worst part, though? Brendon had gotten _nothing_ accomplished _whatsoever_. He’d already had to cut his shift short at the Smoothie Hut to work on this damn thing and now he was sitting in an almost-creepy empty library illuminated by a couple of lamps.

Shit. Shit shit _shit_. He was so fucked.

“What’s the project on?” A voice suddenly rang out, seemingly bored but almost curious.

Brendon jumped nearly a foot out of his seat. “What the _fuck_? Who’s there?” Great. Now Brendon was basically in a horror movie. He hoped his death was sudden. Creepy public library in the dark? Yep, he was dead.

“Oh fuck yes!” The voice cried out happily. Brendon whipped around, seeing nothing.

“Who the fuck is here?” Brendon asked again.

“Oh, right, shit, sorry about that.” Brendon whipped his head back to where the voice was now coming from a boy sitting across the table from him. The boy had a smile on his face, glimmering white teeth around a tan face. He had curly brown hair that fell across his brown eyes, but what immediately caught Brendon’s eyes was the 70’s-era clothing that the seventeen or eighteen year old boy was wearing.

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” Brendon asked, just about done with this entire day.

“I’m Ryan Ross. I’m a ghost. Nice to meet you.” The ghost-boy put out his hand for Brendon to shake, but withdrew it when he realized Brendon wasn’t moving.

“And I also asked you what your project was on.” Ryan told him, pulling the papers closer to him with his ghost-fingers. “Hmmm, presidents, huh? You must have AP American History with that mean old bitch.”

All that was running through Brendon’s mind was _what the fuck_?

Ryan looked up at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. Then realization appeared on his soft features. “Oh, right. You’re in shock. Go ahead, stare at me with that stupid look on your face.”

Brendon took about twenty seconds to snap out of it and rush out a handful of questions such as, “What the fuck? Who the fuck are you? The fucking 70s? A fucking ghost?”

Ryan sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am a ghost,” He spoke slowly, over-emphasizing every syllable, “My name is Ryan Ross. I died in 1974. Capiche?”

Brendon stared at him dumbfounded until something like realization mixed with fear occupied his face.

“Wait, so are you gonna kill me or something?” Brendon asked. Ryan burst out laughing, and Brendon was even more terrified. This could _not_ be real.

“I’m not gonna kill you, Jesus Christ. I’m not that crazy.”

“But you’re a ghost.”

“You’ve watched too many horror movies.” Ryan remarked, going through Brendon’s papers.

“Hey! Those are mine!” Brendon reached out and grabbed the papers away from Ryan’s ghost-hands, and Ryan simply rolled his eyes. As Brendon quickly grabbed his papers he managed to touch the side of Ryan’s hand, and god _damn_ was it cold. Brendon recoiled while Ryan looked like he was about to go into shock.

“Hold up, holy shit, you can touch me?” Ryan blurted out, eyes wide. He reached for Brendon’s hand, pulling it close to him.

“Holy fucking shit, I can _touch_ you.” Ryan marveled at the other boy’s hand that was still in his ghost-grip.

“Yeah, so what?” Brendon said defensively, pulling his hand out of Ryan’s grip and holding it close to his chest. Ryan felt _weird_. Not like ectoplasm-goo-shit that he expected, but Ryan was cold. Not freezing, but not exactly like touching a normal person.

“Oh, yeah, uh, I’m sorry.” Ryan looked down at his lap. “I just, uh, haven’t been able to touch or really talk to anyone and I got kind of excited.”

Brendon felt a pang of sympathy for the ghost in front of him, and tentatively put his hand back on the table. The ghost stared at it for a long time before reaching out his long fingers to touch his fingers. Brendon didn’t recoil this time, even though the hand was cold. Ryan’s fingers first touched Brendon’s bitten fingernails and slowly moved his fingers down to where two rings rested. One was a big black stone, which seemed to match him very well. The other ring was similar in size but had a symbol on it instead of a stone. Both looked like they fit him.

Ryan moved his hand so that his palm was resting on top of Brendon’s and he let out a relieved sigh. Brendon was speechless. Here he was, sitting in a library after dark, holding hands with a ghost. He certainly hadn’t planned this out that morning.

Ryan pulled his hands back slowly, only leaving the warmth of the library where his fingers had laid just a moment before.

“Thank you.” Ryan told him, looking down at his lap again.

“Not a problem.” Brendon said automatically, still in a daze.

They fell into silence, both of them thinking. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence but instead a companionable silence. They both ended up lost in thought, and so when Brendon looked up at Ryan, he was surprised to find that the ghost was no longer there.

“Ryan?” Brendon called out, looking around.

Nothing.

Ryan was gone.

Brendon chewed on his lip as he gathered up his things. “Ryan?” He called out again, not wishing for his meeting with the strange boy to come to an end so quickly.

No answer.

Brendon pulled his backpack onto a shoulder and headed out of the library.

“Bye.” He called out, locking up the library and heading home.

As Brendon laid in his bed that night, dreaming of ghosts and disco music, he had no idea that a certain Ryan Ross was hiding in a library corner, happy for the first time in forty years.


	2. Close Encounter of the Ghost Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> isn't death such a funny thing?

When Brendon woke up the next morning, the first thing he thought about was how fucking annoying his alarm clock was. The second thing he thought about was Ryan the ghost boy from the night before. Before he knew it, he was rushing to his school on his old dented bike, right back to the library half an hour before school started.

He walked back to the table where he’d been sitting last night, and it was just as he had left it. He noticed that the chair Ryan had been sitting in was still exactly as Ryan had left it, as it was pushed to the side. Brendon glanced around as he had last night, half-expecting to see the 70’s ghost.

“Ryan?” He whispered. Still, nothing. It was then that Brendon started to get anxious. Perhaps he’d been too mean to the ghost last night? Maybe Ryan just didn’t like him?

A voice suddenly startled him out of his thoughts. “Mr. Urie? Did you need anything?” The librarian tapped him on the shoulder. Brendon flinched, more startled than scared.

“Uh, ah, no, no I didn’t.” Brendon stumbled over his words.

“I noticed you locked up last night, thank you.” The librarian told him with a smile on her face.

“Oh, uh, yeah, just a completely normal night.” Uh-huh, right. _Normal_.

The librarian looked confused but seemed to shrug it off. She walked away and left Brendon to his thoughts. He quickly figured that the ghost wouldn’t come back with so many people around and walked back to the commons where he was sure that Pete and Spencer were waiting for him.

Sure enough, Pete was sitting with his boyfriend, Patrick, whilst Jon was still flirting with Spencer. He’d been doing it for weeks and everyone knew it, especially Spencer. However, Spencer wasn’t exactly playing hard-to-get, in fact, he was more than ready to go out with Jon. It’d just been too soon since he broke up with his past boyfriend just two months before. The guy’s name was Brent, and he was a complete asshole. He’d dumped Spencer right after he’d found out that he was cheating on him and moved away. It was lucky for him, because Brendon wouldn’t hesitate to punch that motherfucker right in the face.

Brendon sat down, wondering what his four friends were up to. Pete was apparently talking about starting a band when Brendon walked up, and immediately went to greet his friend.

“Brendon! You’re late. What kept you?” Pete rushed out.

“I, uh, left some stuff in the library last night that I had to get.” Brendon quickly lied. Everyone else seemed to think that this was boring and carried on with their conversations. Brendon quickly inserted himself into their friends’ lives, until something said by Pete caught his attention.

“So I heard this rumor that this school is haunted.” Pete told them, laughing it off like it was no big deal. Brendon visibly froze and forced out a laugh along with the others. They had  _no idea_.

“Haunted? Sounds like those tales that we tell freshmen.” Spencer laughed. Brendon couldn’t think. He’d literally met a ghost _last night_.

“Bren? You alright there, buddy?” Patrick seemed to notice that Brendon was internally _freaking out_.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Peachy.” Brendon smiled. Now that the attention was on him, all four looked skeptical.

“You sure, bro?” Jon asked, followed by Pete saying, “Yeah, you don’t look too well.”

“I, uh, must’ve caught something from a coworker.” Brendon shrugged it off, and his friends, though uneasy, forgot the subject.

As soon as the bell rang the five went their separate ways. Pete and Patrick, of course the star couple of the group went off holding hands. They both knew the principal was an extreme homophobe and made sure to be as gay as possible whenever they passed by him. Jon waved a quick good-bye to Spencer, telling him that he’d text him during first period and everything went as normal. Brendon walked to his class, still not being able to think about anything but a certain ghost. Was Ryan the ghost that they were talking about? What was his story? Why was he here?

These questions plagued Brendon all throughout his first two periods, until in his third period his class went to the library. Immediately he was on high alert and began looking around the library once more. Out of sheer curiosity Brendon strayed over to where he had sat with the ghost the night before. As he had last night he sat down and resumed the work he had begun the night before, as that project was for this class.

It was there that he found something incredibly peculiar. Inscribed in the corner of the table was a small ‘R’. Brendon bit his lip, absolutely enthralled. He’d convinced himself that what had happened last night had been a figment of his imagination. Ryan Ross the ghost was not real. Not real. Not real. Just a figment of Brendon’s tired and overworked mind.

This small little ‘R’ made all of those doubts disappear.

Ryan Ross, the ghost from 1974 was a real live _ghost_. Or, Brendon thought rather humorously, a real dead ghost.

_Shit_.

A mother _fucking ghost_.

_Fuck._

Brendon’s leg started shaking, an anxious habit that always found his way back to him from time to time, always when he was nervous.

Had he attracted the attention of a ghost?

Oh, _shit_. He’d seen enough horror movies to know where this was going.

Almost immediately his mind began spiraling into so many bad situations that could happen with a ghost. If possible, his leg started shaking even more.

When he looked up, he nearly screamed.

“Hi.” The ghost said shyly, waving his small ghost-hand.

Brendon stared at him with his mouth gaping open.

A small smile somehow found its way onto Ryan’s gorgeous features. “You might want to close that, a bug might fly in.”

Brendon’s mouth snapped close immediately.

“Wait, what, how . . . what?” Brendon was at a loss for words.

“Oh, yeah, appearing in plain sight is probably a little freaky. So, apparently, you’re the only one that can see and hear me, and what’s really neat is that you can touch me. I’ve met a few of students over the years that can see me, and two of those could hear me, but never touch me. So congratulations, Brendon Boyd Urie, you are the prize winner that can do all three.” Ryan looked almost bored as he said this, as he was studying his fingernails.

Brendon had to sit and think for a moment. _What?_ It took approximately thirty seconds for Brendon to take it all in, and as soon as he had he simply let out an, “Oh.”

Ryan the ghost raised an eyebrow. “I hope you realize that even though people can’t see me, they can still see you.”

Brendon almost immediately looked down at his paper, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

“Oh, man, you’re not good at subtlety, are you?” Ryan let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“Uh, I’ve, uh,” Brendon was whispering, “I’ve just never met a ghost before.”

At this, Ryan let out a long, loud laugh.

“Well, obviously. There aren’t too many of us.” Ryan said the last bit with just a hint of sadness. Brendon noted this and bit his lip. He felt a pang of sympathy for the ghost in front of him. How lonely an existence it must be, only being able to talk to a few people who are few and far between, never being able to touch anyone, to feel. Brendon wasn’t sure if he could imagine a worse fate.

“But . . . can’t you travel? Like go places and meet other ghosts?” Brendon asked.

“Nope. As a ghost you can only travel where you’ve been before.” Ryan let out a sad chuckle, pulling what appeared to be an old pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He pulled out a lighter from another pocket and lit up his cigarette. Ghost cigarette? What a strange concept.

“That’s kind of limiting.” Brendon was still staring at the cigarette in fascination. Ryan seemed to notice this and smiled.

“It is definitely limiting.” Ryan’s thin fingers held the cigarette between two fingers, completely mesmerizing Brendon. He let out a small chuckle, taking a quick drag on his ghost cigarette.

“Okay, um, how does that work?” Brendon was still whispering, but he couldn’t help but grin ever so slightly. So much for subtlety.

“When a person dies and they become a ghost, anything they had on them becomes ghostified, and I just happened to have my pack of cigarettes and a lighter on me.” Ryan told him.

“Huh.” Brendon said. That was incredibly awesome. Who would’ve thought?

Brendon’s mind started straying. “Wait, so for example, if you were having sex and you died and you became a ghost, would you be naked for all eternity?”

Brendon noticed a person out of the corner of his eye sending a puzzled look at him. Oh shit. Whatever.

Ryan was giggling, most likely at the mental image. “Jesus fucking Christ, kid. I forgot how vivid everything is nowadays.”

“Okay, so what was the 70s like then?” Brendon asked.

“70s was alright. Good music, good weed. Nothing like nowadays, though, with that Game of Thrones and boobs. You guys have got it made. Oh, and also the internet. That shit’s awesome.”

“Hold up, can you get on the computers here? And like, touch stuff?” Brendon asked, his voice getting louder. Several people gave him puzzled looks and told him to shush.

“Subtlety, Brendon.” Ryan half-smiled. He took another drag on his cigarette before continuing. “Yeah, I can touch things and move shit. Sometimes I’ll go into classrooms and move all the desks over a few inches and it’s hilarious to see people get confused.”

“Dude! That happened to one of my friends in freshman English! That was you?” Brendon asked in disbelief. At least he remembered to whisper this time.

Ryan broke out into a smile. “Hell yeah. Who was that? Mr. Taylor? Yeah, I love to mess with him.”

“That was awesome! My friend told me that he was trippy for a week afterwards.”

“I love for my work to be noticed.” Ryan told him, blowing out a perfect smoke ring.

“How?”

“Years of practice.” Ryan responded nearly immediately.

Brendon broke out into a wide smile. This ghost business wasn’t as bad as he thought. In fact, why was he even worried? Ryan was _amazing_.

“What other stuff have you done?” Brendon asked, forever curious.

“I like to do small things, I actually haven’t done anything huge in a while. However, for senior prank two years back I put that colored cow up on the roof. Some shitty asshole took the blame for my work, but oh well. I think it breathed life back into the haunted rumors, in some circles at least.”

“That was my freshman year! And yeah, the haunted rumors definitely made a comeback then, and my friend Pete said something about it too.”

“Pete? As in Pete Wentz?” Ryan asked and Brendon nodded.

“Pete’s awesome. I like how he’ll kiss his boyfriend, what’s his name?”

“Patrick.” Brendon supplied with a smile.

“Right, Patrick, you know how he’ll kiss Patrick in front of that homophobic principal.” Ryan snapped his fingers. “Now that I like. Adds a little bit of color.”

“Pete’s one of my best friends!” Brendon enthused as quietly as possible.

“I definitely like that Pete character.” Ryan nodded.

It was then that Brendon noticed something. “Wait, you’re from the 70s,” Ryan nodded, wondering where he was going, “And people were really against gays back then, so aren’t you?” Oh man, Brendon made that incredibly awkward.

“Am I homophobic? No. In fact, exactly the opposite.” It took a moment for Ryan’s words to sink in.

“Wait, you’re gay?” Brendon was amazed. He’d never met someone from the 70s who was gay.

Ryan took another drag before answering. “Uh-huh.”

“That’s so cool! I’m actually bisexual, so that’s really fuckin’ awesome.”

“I actually never met anyone back when I was alive who was anything but straight and narrow. Sure, sometimes boys and girls would get drunk and accidentally kiss, sometimes fuck, but they’d always heavily deny that they were anything but straight. Nowadays, you’ve got Pete and Patrick kissing in front of the principal for Christ’s sake. Things are so much more groovy now.”

Brendon smiled at Ryan’s use of the 70s lingo. “Groovy, huh?”

“I did tell you I’m from the 70s.” Ryan smiled, glancing down at his lap.

The teacher was now walking around, glancing down at what people had done. She slowly walked over to where Brendon was sitting, giving him a disapproving glare.

“Mr. Urie, is there a reason you haven’t done anything in the past twenty minutes?” The teacher asked.

“Uh.” Brendon started chewing on his lip, trying really hard not to start laughing when Ryan started messing around with the teacher’s hair.

“So thick, so luscious.” Ryan said loudly. Brendon could barely stop himself.

“Mr. Urie?” The teacher said impatiently, scratching at her head.

“I suppose I was just slightly distracted.” Brendon said quietly. He would be embarrassed if Ryan wasn’t messing around with the teacher.

“Distracted by what?” The teacher was tapping her foot in annoyance.

“Just daydreaming, you know how it goes.” Brendon flashed a big smile.

Ryan rolled his eyes, absently moving his ghost hands through the teacher’s body. The teacher seemed to barely take notice, except for grabbing at her stomach when Ryan kept his hand there.

“Make sure you stop daydreaming, Mr. Urie. This project is a big grade.” The teacher walked away with disappointment clear on her features.

“You better get on that project, Mr. Urie.” Ryan mocked, moving to the reference section.

“Who do you have, Lyndon Johnson?” Ryan asked and Brendon nodded. He ushered Brendon over to him and pointed at four books. “These are the best, you’ll get your project done in a flash.”

Brendon grabbed all four and moved back to his table. “Thanks.” He whispered and Ryan sat down across from him, pulling out yet another cigarette.

As Brendon worked on his project Ryan gave him pointers, until the bell rang and Brendon went to lunch.

“Go spend time with your friends.” Ryan ushered him out when Brendon protested.

“I could spend time with you though.” He countered and Ryan shook his head.

“I’ll bother you all during fourth period, I promise, but go spend time with your friends.” Ryan sent off Brendon with a goodbye by simply touching him on his shoulder and retreated to one of his favorite corners in the library. He settled down with one of his favorite books and a wide smile on his face. He liked this Brendon kid. That Brendon kid also liked his ghost friend right back. And yet, Ryan couldn’t help but wonder at how long this one was going to last before he was alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading! i'm posting this chapter earlier than expected, since I got it finished so quickly. I've already received so much positive feedback, so thank you so much for your kudos and comments! They make my day :D Next chapter up in a week or less!


	3. "You've Never Heard Bohemian Rhapsody?"

Over the next week Brendon spent time with Ryan nearly every day after school, before he had to leave for work and he’d come back after his shift was over and talk some more. Ryan enjoyed the company and Brendon loved finding out what the 70s were like.

“Ryan!” Brendon called into the empty library. Of course the librarian was off on some date, who knows who she was dating now.

Ryan appeared from behind a bookcase, a book in hand and with a wide smile on his soft features.

“What’s up Brendon?” Ryan asked, setting the book down. He was sure the librarian would find it later and wonder what the fuck happened.

Brendon smiled wide and looked down at his phone. Ryan was puzzled for a moment, until the sweet sound of Led Zeppelin’s Rock and Roll started pumping through his phone speakers. Ryan burst into a huge grin and started playing his own air-guitar.

Brendon grinned as he saw Ryan flail around (which Ryan would probably call dancing) and loudly singing along to Robert Plant’s distinctive voice. Brendon joined along and channeled his inner John Bonham and played air-drums. Brendon joined along and sang the words he knew and Ryan grinned. Unlike Ryan, Brendon could easily get up to those high notes which more than impressed the ghost.

Once the song was over Brendon turned it down just a tad as the playlist kept going on.

“Holy shit, Led Zep IV is my jam.” Ryan laughed, shaking his curls around. “Stairway to Heaven? I bought a guitar just to learn that riff at the end.”

Brendon raised his eyebrows. “Holy shit, that’s dedication.”

“I knew three other people who did the exact same thing, and all three of them hadn’t picked up a guitar before in their life.”

“And had you?” Brendon smirked.

Ryan bit his lip. “Uh…no.”

“And did you learn the riff?”

“You know what? I did. I’m no Jimmy Page but I can play the fucking riff.” Ryan shook his hand at Brendon, saying it more playfully than seriously.

Brendon raised his hands. “I’m not doubting you.” He tried to hide a grin.

Ryan scoffed dramatically. “Fine, I wasn’t going to show you anyway.”

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” Brendon said, channeling his theatrical side.

“I don’t like you anymore.” Ryan turned away, making himself invisible.

Brendon laughed. “Making yourself invisible doesn’t solve your problems!” He called out and heard a distinctive “Fuck you!” coming from about twenty feet away.

Brendon burst out laughing. “Get your ass over here Jimmy Page.” He called out again, playing Stairway to Heaven off of the iPod that Pete had lent him.

“Is that what I think it is?” Ryan, now visible, ran up to the iPod and held it close to him.

Brendon was taken aback for a moment, and then he realized that there was a chance that Ryan hadn’t heard this song in nearly 40 years. It’s not like he had headphones or a radio, no.

“Holy shit.” Ryan whispered as soon as the guitar kicked in. Brendon watched in awe. How horrible it must be to not be able to listen to music, he thought. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he went a day without at least listening to one song, much less _years_.

The song finished out with the absolutely amazing guitar solo and Robert Plant singing through the tiny device and Ryan silently mouthing the words. Ryan was at peace for those few minutes. He hadn’t heard the song in too long, not since the day he died. Even then, the record wouldn’t stop skipping.

The song ended and Ryan sat in silence for a moment before it went to the next song which was Bohemian Rhapsody.

“What’s this?” Ryan asked, a puzzled look on his face.

Brendon did a double take.

“Wait, you’ve never heard Bohemian Rhapsody? It’s been out since 1975 dude!” Brendon couldn't believe it. How could Ryan not have heard Bohemian Rhapsody? It was sacrilege.

“Dude, I died in 1974.” Ryan pointed out and Brendon nodded.

“Still, you should’ve heard this song by now.” Brendon started the song and Ryan still looked puzzled but shrugged and listened. Brendon began copying the famous scene from Wayne’s World and was head-banging while Ryan looked on in complete confusion.

Brendon began singing on the rock part of the song, even reaching the high notes with little trouble. He was fairly sure he heard Ryan mutter, “Holy shit,” under his breath.

“Isn’t that amazing?” Brendon stared at him with a wide smile on his face as he hit pause when the song ended.

“Uh, it’s definitely different.” Ryan said and then shrugged. “But it’s pretty good nonetheless.”

“I love that song so much, and I told myself that if I ever become a famous musician I’m playing that at every single show.” Brendon smiled, humming a piece of it under his breath.

Ryan nodded. “It definitely sounds fun to sing.” Ryan thought for a moment before Brendon could continue rambling. “So you want to be a musician?”

Brendon’s eyes gleamed. “Yes! I just think it’d be so much fun, you know? Getting out there and making a difference, standing before thousands of people who come just to see you. It makes you feel kinda special, I guess. I mean, I’ve never been to a concert before but can’t you imagine the feeling?”

Ryan frowned. “You’ve never been to a concert?”

Brendon shook his head sadly. “Nope. Never can afford the ticket.”

“But aren’t tickets like ten bucks?” Ryan asked.

Brendon looked at Ryan with the most unbelievable look on his face. “Where have you been for the past forty years?”

“Dead.” Ryan answered.

“You realize concert tickets cost hundreds of dollars now, right?” Ryan looked at Brendon with a highly puzzled look on his face.

“What the _fuck_? Jesus fucking Christ that’s a lot.” Ryan let out a long breath.

“Yeah, no shit.” Brendon answered, running a hand through his hair.

“You know I bought my first car for a few hundred, right?” Ryan told him and now it was Brendon’s turn to look stupefied.

“Yeah, it was a piece of shit but it got me around. Like a ’57 Chevy Bel-Air that someone had pretty much run into the ground before I bought it.”

“Holy shit.” Brendon said, shaking his head. “That thing would be worth so much money today.”

“Yeah, cause it’s a classic now, right?”

“Uh-huh. I’d kill to have any car from the 50s, ‘cause god damn were those things beautiful.”

“No way man, it was a piece of shit.”

They bickered like that for a moment until Ryan finally rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever man. Play that Bohemian thing again.” Brendon more than happily obliged.

They hung out like that for a while with Brendon playing his 70s playlist and Ryan recognizing some of the songs and smiling and humming along while they talked about everything from ‘90s grunge to ‘50s doo-wop.

“It sounds all fun and great at first but then you hear it all the fucking time and you want to blow your fucking brains out.” And that was all Ryan had to say about that subject.

Brendon ended up playing Nirvana for him and he shrugged. “Good song, but no Zep.”

“Not everything is Led Zeppelin.” Brendon protested and Ryan stared at him dramatically for a moment before saying,

“Led Zeppelin _is_ everything.” He said in a monotone and Brendon laughed.

“Shut the fuck up.” He lightly slapped Ryan on the shoulder and he laughed along too.

Brendon glanced at the time, “Oh shit!” He hastily gathered up his things and shoved them in his bag.

“What?” Ryan asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m going to be late for dinner, _fuck me_.” Brendon swore, shaking.

“Who the fuck cares if you’re late? We can run up the street and eat.” Ryan was pissed. He didn’t want Brendon to leave so soon and especially not like _this_.

“No, Ryan, you don’t understand. I _can’t_ be late.” Brendon was rushing out of the library but was stopped by Ryan grabbing onto his wrist. The ghost had a stronger grip than Brendon thought.

“What?” Brendon asked, half-annoyed, half-anxious.

“You’re coming back, right?” Ryan asked anxiously, biting his lip.

Brendon’s face softened. “Of course I’m coming back. Maybe not tonight but tomorrow, I promise. You can bother me all during English and Math.”

Ryan smiled just a little. “Okay.” He let go of his wrist and Brendon sped away, out to his car, down the street. He made it to his house quickly, breaking several speeding laws. He couldn't help but think about what would happen tonight. His father would surely be disappointed, as he always was. His mother wouldn't even look at him. Dinner would be a polite affair, simply the family gathering together. Brendon would sit with them but be excluded from all conversation as usual. He sighed as he pulled into his driveway. He had a healthy fear of his father but he was tired, so damn tired of it all. As soon as he pulled into the driveway he jumped out and rushed to the door. He fumbled to get his key out of his pocket but by the time he was about to unlock the door a tall figure was standing in the open space.

“You’re late.” His father said sternly.

“Yes, I know sir, I just got held up at school and lost track of the time, I’m sorry.” Brendon rushed out but his father’s face didn’t change. It was the same as it usually was: disappointment and annoyance.

“Get inside.” Brendon rushed in, dropping his bag and taking off his shoes. He sat down between his brother and sister who both glared at him disapprovingly. He sighed.

Brendon’s father sat down at the head of the table and told everyone to say grace. His brother and sister reached across him to hold hands, completely excluding him.

In a way, he thought, I’ve brought this on myself. His family was a clan of incredibly religious Mormons and so when Brendon had come out and told them that he was bisexual and that he also didn’t believe in God he was treated as a stranger in his own home. The only contact he had with his family was when they sat down for dinner and even that was strenuous. No one bothered to ask him how his day went or if his grades were good or even a polite, “Hello.”

At first his little sister had talked to him a little but when Mom and Dad found out they put a stop to it. He knew they were counting the days to when Brendon would turn eighteen so they could kick him out. Brendon just wished that things could go back to the way they were.

Both Pete and Spencer knew what was going on and usually let Brendon crash at their place if things ever got particularly bad, which usually happened once every couple of weeks, sometimes more. Thankfully, tonight seemed like it was an okay night. He might not have to crash at Spence’s tonight. From time to time both Pete and Brendon would crash there but Pete never told and the two of them never asked.

After dinner Brendon quickly went up to his room and turned on some music, which his family would most likely call ‘satanic’ at best. He found himself wishing that he could text Ryan. He wondered if Ryan even knew how to work any 21st century technology and found himself laughing to himself.

His thoughts strayed and he couldn’t help but wonder how Ryan died. Ryan was only 17 after all, so obviously he didn’t die of old age. Hmm. He’d have to ask Ryan.

Maybe I should tell Pete and Spin about Ryan, he thought to himself. How amusing that conversation would be. Pete would probably blindly believe him and Spence would give that ‘look’ that he gives when someone’s lying. He figured he’d have to tell them eventually but he shrugged it off. They’d find out before he told them.

In between songs he heard the faint sounds of yelling from downstairs and turned off his music. Sure enough, his parents were screeching at the other downstairs. Oh. So it was one of those nights. Well, he thought, might as well get out while he can.

He quickly grabbed the bag from under his bed with all of his essentials and sent a quick text to Spencer. He responded almost immediately with a simple ‘ok’. That’s all he needed to say, really. Brendon climbed down the side of the house and almost immediately ran into a very familiar and very cold ghost.

“Ryan?” Brendon asked.

Ryan stared at the house behind him with fear and disbelief in his eyes.

“This is my house.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always :-D I left it on a little bit of a cliffhanger but I'm going to try to move my updates to Sundays so there may or may not be a new chapter Sunday! Please give me feedback if you liked it or you didn't like it, I honestly appreciate that you took time out of your day to read or leave kudos or even leave a comment on my little story here. See you Sunday! (hopefully :p)


	4. Home Isn't Where The Heart Is, It Seems

Ryan was staring in awe at the place he had once called home. It was all still there, though perhaps touched up a bit. The faded red paint that he remembered was now replaced with a faded light blue and the place looked as run-down as the last day he’d seen it. The window that he’d used to sneak out of every night was still the same and he would bet anything that it still made that small little squeak whenever it was opened in the wintertime. 

He had so many memories here, some good, some bad. He remembered the time he was throwing a baseball and cracked the kitchen window. He remembered the time he was sitting on the roof with Andy and he’d slipped off and broke his ankle. His dad had raised hell about that but Ryan had simply laughed it off. Although, he did have to work extra shifts at the grocery store to pay off the medical bills. It’d left a bitter taste in his mouth back then but he’d long since gotten over it. Besides, he’d had some extra cash to go blow on weed. That was the summer of sophomore year, he remembered. Good times. He almost smiled to himself but just wasn’t able to. This place was tainted in too many bad memories.

Ryan bit his lip nervously, not being able to stand looking at the place he’d once called home. He wouldn’t have followed Brendon home if he knew where he’d lived. He couldn’t be here, he needed to get away.

Ryan looked around wildly not knowing where to run to. Everything had changed so much since the last time he’d been here. Why did everything have to change? Why was he still here? What was he supposed to be doing?

Ryan fled, running off towards the woods behind his house just as he had done more than 40 years before.

Brendon didn’t hesitate in running after the ghost. All Ryan had said was, “This is my house,” and had run off into the night. Brendon didn’t know what to think as he ran after Ryan. His feet pumped against the soft grass as he saw Ryan’s form fade in the distance. 

“Ryan!” He called out but it was no use. The ghost had disappeared. 

“Ryan!” He called out again desperately, hoping, praying that he would reappear.

Brendon sighed when he realized that Ryan was gone. He ran a hand through his hair as he stood in the middle of the woods. The sun had fallen long before and it was nearing midnight and here he was, calling after a dead person. The worst part is that he didn’t know where he was. 

Sighing heavily he sat down against a tree. He looked around for a moment, hoping that he’d either figure out where he was or Ryan would find him. 

As the minutes passed his mind wandered. Why had Ryan run from his own house? It didn’t make sense, unless he hated his home. Brendon could sympathize with that. 

He shivered as the cold wind ran over him and realized that it must be after midnight at this point. He laughed to himself, although nothing was exceptionally funny. His life was just . . . pathetic, he thought. He was still waiting for Ryan, even though Ryan was far gone, 40 years gone if he wanted to be technical. 

He pulled his jacket on and checked his phone. He had four texts and three missed calls from Spencer but he couldn’t be bothered to care at that moment. Brendon thought that he probably should start walking somewhere, at the very least. 

Brendon slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking forward, which might be the way he’d come and it might not be. Might as well take a chance, he thought.   
Brendon went back home, knowing that his parents were most likely asleep by now. He silently climbed back up his window and sent Spencer a quick text saying that he was okay. Spencer replied almost immediately but Brendon had already put his phone down and crawled into bed. 

When his alarm clock went off five hours later he was somewhere between awake and asleep and hastily turned the annoying beeping off. He made it to school early and both Pete and Spencer were already there.

“Where the fuck were you last night?” Spencer immediately hopped on him, angry and hurt. 

“It’s not a big deal.” Brendon shrugged it off and put his backpack on the ground as he sat on the uncomfortable cafeteria seats.

“Yes, it is a fucking big deal!” Pete interjected. 

“We thought something bad had happened!” Spencer said and Brendon sighed.

“Look, nothing happened. So just drop it.” He told them. He knew it was no use, they’d never get off his case until he told them. 

“I’m not going to fucking drop it, Brendon. Tell me what happened last night.”

“I thought something bad was going to happen and I was going to come over to your place but I got sidetracked, okay? That’s all that happened.” 

“Why did you get sidetracked?” Pete asked, more worried than angry at this point.

“I just started walking and I got lost so I went back home.” Brendon only half-lied. 

Spencer gave Brendon a look but dropped the subject. It was good too, because both Jon and Patrick were walking towards them. 

“What’s up guys?” Patrick said cheerily, instantly brightening everyone’s mood. Patrick had that effect. 

Pete instantly smiled and pulled Patrick to him with a short laugh. “Brendon’s keeping secrets, apparently.” 

“What? Shut the fuck up, Pete.” Brendon crossed his arms although he meant it more playful than serious. Anything to get him from talking about what happened last night.   
Patrick’s eyes sparkled. “Secrets you say? Now I’m interested.”

“Leave me be, assholes.” Lucky for Brendon the bell rang and he hastily picked up his bag.

“See you later, fuckers.” Brendon smiled and sighed when they were out of sight. 

The day passed slowly as Brendon couldn’t help but think of Ryan. Where had he run to? Why had he been so freaked out about the house? Where was he now? Was he okay?   
After school he went to the library, telling a worried Pete and Spencer that he had some project to work on, even though the Presidents project had been due the week before.   
He waited for an hour until everyone had filtered out and the librarian had told him to lock up when he was finished before finally calling out his name.

“Ryan?” He asked timidly. 

Nothing. 

Brendon left the library forty-five minutes later and made his way to Spencer’s place, where Pete was staying. Of course neither Spencer nor Brendon said anything. 

“Is it cool if I spend the night here?” Brendon asked.

Spencer smiled and pulled Brendon into a hug. “Of course man.”

It turns out that Brendon wouldn’t see Ryan for two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much happened in this chapter as it was more of a filler but chapter 5/6 will be way more exciting i swear and i also apologize bc this is a lot shorter than i wanted it to be but i stumbled upon some writer's block and blah blah writer troubles but anyway i hope you enjoyed :D if you didn't that's cool just leave a comment telling me how you feel or maybe a kudos if you like it?


	5. Is There Somewhere?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon's current thought process: My ghost, where'd you go?

“Bren? Brendon?” 

Brendon was lounging on Spencer’s couch with eyes half-shut. He’d spend his Friday night over at Spin’s house and now he could smell pancakes in the kitchen.

It’d been a pretty typical Friday night, just the two of them watching old horror movies that used to scare them when they were kids. Spencer, as usual, had fallen asleep by the middle of the second movie but Brendon only managed to drift off sometime after he’d slipped the fourth movie in. He didn’t sleep much anyway, but he never really needed to. 

He’d slept at Spencer’s for the past few days which was unusual since he usually only slept at Spencer a couple nights a week. His parents had been arguing more than usual lately, since it was towards the end of the month and they didn’t have a lot of money. Ah, his life was absolutely splendid, he thought sarcastically. Spencer never had any problem with Bren staying over and Spencer’s mom loved him anyway. 

So now he was laying on Spencer’s couch half-awake with Spencer prodding at his side.

He lazily opened one eye and waited a moment for it to focus. Spence was looking at him with worried eyes and Brendon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been like this for the past two weeks, constantly worrying and watching Brendon. He was tired of it but he knew that Spencer cared. However annoying Spencer could be, Bren appreciated that.  
“Yeah, Spence?” Brendon yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. 

Spence bit his lip. Uh-oh, Brendon thought, he was worried.

“My mom made pancakes, d’you want some?” All of the worry slipped out of Spin’s face as a smile found itself on Brendon’s face. 

“Sounds awesome.” He moved the blanket to the side and walked into the kitchen where Mrs. Smith greeted him with a smile and a plate of pancakes.

“Are you full, dear?” Spin’s mom asked after Brendon’s fourth pancake. 

“Yes, thank you.” That woman would cook for Brendon all day if she had the chance. “You’re too skinny, Brendon,” she’d always say. He wonders what he’d say if she saw Ryan. 

Ryan.

Shit. 

He hadn’t seen Ryan in over two weeks, not since the night he’d shown up outside Brendon’s house. He’d racked his brain for hours, practically driving himself insane at wondering why Ryan had been so freaked out. At this point he had resigned himself to the fact that Ryan wasn’t coming back, although he wished he would.

“So what’s Jon up to today?” Brendon raised his eyebrows as Spencer looked away, blushing. Maybe Spence wouldn’t admit it but he was totally into Jon. 

“How am I supposed to know?” Spencer said, but there was no bite to the words.

“Maybe you could, and I know that this is a revolutionary idea, but you could text him.” Brendon said sarcastically and Spence glared at him.

“No, man, this is our day.” Spencer had recently been determined about just hanging out with Brendon all day, and although he loved Spence, the dude really needed to get out with his friends.

“It’s been ‘our day’ for the past couple of weeks. Honestly, man, go out with Jon.” Brendon really hoped Spence would drop it. 

As Brendon had guessed Spencer did drop it but he looked uncomfortable while doing it. 

“Okay, okay, but what about you?”

“I’m just going to go relax, I’ve got some homework to catch up on.” Brendon wasn’t really lying, he just needed some time alone, he told himself. 

“At your place?”

“Nah, the library.” He told himself that he wasn’t going there to look for Ryan, he just wanted to use the wi-fi and catch up on homework. 

“You need a ride?”

Brendon nodded and they were on their way. Spencer drove, telling Bren to text Jon. He could see the smile on Spence’s face when his phone buzzed and Brendon read the text to him.

“Awesome!” Spencer dropped Brendon off with a smile.

“Don’t you text and drive, mister.” He said in the most motherly voice he could manage.

“I promise.” Spencer smiled and headed towards Jon’s place. For a brief moment Brendon stood on the pavement where the car had been but moved to go into the library. It was Saturday, so the school library that he frequented was closed but he needed time to himself. 

He went to a corner of the library and plugged in his laptop, browsing the internet and listening to music. Just . . . relaxing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat down and done this, especially not recently. 

Brendon hung out at the library shamelessly using their wi-fi for a couple of hours. He caught himself looking around for Ryan a few times and told himself that, no, he wasn’t looking for Ryan, Ryan was gone. 

Brendon packed up his things, feeling slightly disappointed. He told himself that it was stupid, pining after a ghost who’d been dead for forty years. 

He walked out of the library with slumped shoulders. He actually didn’t know where he was going to go but he shrugged and continued anyway.

He opened the door and there he was face-to-face with none other than Ryan Ross.

Brendon didn’t know whether to hug him or slap him.

“Uh, hi.” Ryan said awkwardly and that’s when Brendon decided to get mad.

“What the fuck Ryan? Do you know how fucking long it’s been? Do you even know what you’ve done?” Brendon rushed out, feeling more hurt than anger. 

Ryan rubbed a hand through his hair and looked down at his feet. Brendon sighed and pushed past him as he continued down his way.

“Brendon, please wait.” Ryan said softly, still looking down at his feet. 

“What do you want?” 

“I just want to talk, okay?”

Brendon sighed and made a half-assed attempt at rolling his eyes. “Fine.” He told him and reluctantly turned back around.

“Follow me.” Ryan told him, walking away. Brendon followed as Ryan led him down a few blocks to an old park that Brendon had frequented as a kid. 

The curly-haired ghost moved to sit in a swing and Brendon did the same.

“So what is it?” Brendon asked impatiently.

“It’s hard to explain-“ Ryan began to say.

“Skip the bullshit Ryan.” He said harshly and Ryan flinched.

“Would you just give me a moment?” Ryan snapped.

“You’ve had two weeks of moments.” Brendon snapped back.

“I’ve got an explanation!”

“Then just say it already!”

Ryan sighed and was quiet again.

“It’s hard to be a ghost . . . and sometimes . . . sometimes we just get lost in ourselves, you know? Especially seeing a place that I spent a lot of time alive in . . . it’s just . . . I got lost, okay? And I know you don’t get it because you’re alive and you don’t know what it’s like but it’s just really difficult and I’m sorry that I left you.” Ryan rambled out, staring at his feet again as he swung softly.

Both of them sat in silence for a long time, with the only sound being the gentle creak of the old rusty swings. 

“It’s okay.” Brendon said finally. 

“So we’re okay?” Ryan asked just a tad too hopefully.

Brendon sighed. “You owe me, you fucker.” He half-joked, trying his best to lighten the mood. Luckily for the both of them, it worked. The corner of Ryan’s mouth turned up just a little, just enough to make Brendon burst into a smile.

“What should I do to make up for that?” Ryan asked with a smirk.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Wait! I know.” Brendon smiled. “You see, I have two projects due this week and it would really help if you did them.” Brendon batted his eyelashes and Ryan laughed.

“Shut the fuck up.” He said playfully, lightly slapping Brendon’s hand. 

“Make me.” Brendon retorted, getting up to stand in front of the ghost. Ryan rose to his level, staring into his eyes. Brendon smiled cockily and less than a moment later Ryan’s soft lips were pressing themselves on Brendon’s and he was wrapping himself around the ghost’s thin frame. 

Ryan’s lips were cool but surprisingly soft. Ryan was a slow kisser as he managed to kiss Brendon as soft as possible but passionately, starting a fire in the pit of Bren’s stomach. Brendon moved with the pace Ryan set and pulled him close to him so that their chests were touching. 

“Ryan,” Brendon gasped, pulling away.

“Yeah?” Ryan was still pressing kisses to the corner of his mouth.

“You’re not gonna leave me again, are you?” He asked, arms still wrapped tight around Ryan as though if he let him go he’d disappear. 

Ryan pulled away and looked at Brendon. “No, of course not. What I did before was stupid, and I’m sorry.”

Brendon bit his lip. “I told you it was okay.”

“I know.” Ryan said, uncomfortable as the atmosphere had suddenly shifted from romantic to awkward again in a flash. 

“I, uh, I just want to know . . . I want to know why. About your house.”

Ryan’s old boots had never looked so interesting. Brendon was chewing on his lip, not sure whether or not he wanted to know the full story.

“It’s hard to explain, B.” Ryan said again, not being able to look up and see the look on Brendon’s face.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” Brendon told him. Ryan looked almost relieved for a moment before he began biting his lip nervously.

“No, you deserve an explanation.” Ryan sighed. He sat back down on the swing and wrung his hands together.

Brendon copied Ryan and sat down on his swing, waiting for Ryan to speak.

“That night, I decided to follow you home, because you said you were going to be late and you were freaked out and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. So I was walking along and I pretty much caught every turn although you were going pretty fast so I got lost a few times but I eventually found my, I mean your, place.”

Brendon glanced at Ryan, whose leg was shaking wildly. He frowned, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. 

“I used to live there, a long time before you moved in there.” Ryan said softly, barely audible. “I, uh, I just have a lot of bad memories there.”

Brendon frowned, imagining a thousand different scenarios of what could’ve happened and hating every single one. 

Ryan’s head was bowed and he was picking at his fingernails, Brendon noticed. 

“Is that why you ran off when you saw it?” Brendon asked quietly, eyes focused on the setting sun in the distance. 

“Yeah.” Ryan said quietly.

Brendon noticed he was wringing his hands together and his heart stung from everything that had hurt Ryan. He wanted to hug the ghost until everything was okay but he could tell Ryan didn’t want to hug his feelings out. 

“Ryan?”

Ryan’s head moved just a bit in Brendon’s direction but he still wasn’t looking at him. 

“Yes?”

“What happened there?”

Ryan sighed and began chewing on his lip again.

“Is it . . . is it okay if we don’t talk about that right now? I’m sorry, I just . . . I’m not ready.”

Brendon nodded. “Yeah, of course.” Maybe he didn’t want to know, he thought. On the other hand, how bad it could be? Well, no, it could be very bad, he thought. 

“Hey, uh, would you want to come to Spencer’s tonight? You might be able to go into his place since it’s old like mine.”

The corner of Ryan’s mouth turned up just a little. “That sounds alright.”

Brendon stood up and extended his hand. “Come on.” Ryan grabbed his hand, his smile growing when Brendon leaned in and pecked Ryan on the lips. They walked hand-in-hand to Spencer’s. The sun had long since set by the time the two of them ended up on Spencer’s porch.

“I remember this place.” Ryan noted. “I went to a party here once.”

Brendon raised an eyebrow. “You were in the party scene?”

“The 70s were wild, man.” Ryan smiled. Brendon just rolled his eyes and went to look in his pocket for his key. Spencer had given him a key when the two of them were fifteen, although what Brendon didn’t know was that Spence hadn’t told his mom at the time. She found out a few months later and didn’t mind, thankfully. 

“Hold up, you’re going to be invisible to everyone else.”

“That’s kind of how this ghost thing works, Bren.” Ryan smiled again and Brendon playfully glared at him.

“So I guess, not to be rude or anything obviously, but just chill in the corner? And don’t do any freaky ghost shit?”

“Just a little bit of freaky ghost shit?” Ryan asked, almost pinching his fingers together to show how little. 

Brendon rolled his eyes. “No.”

Ryan faux-pouted as Brendon unlocked the door and walked in. Spencer and Jon were sitting on the couch talking, practically laying on top of each other. They quickly moved apart from each other and Brendon suppressed a smirk. Spence still wouldn’t admit to the stupid crush, of course.

“Hey.” Brendon cut through the tension with the least-awkward smile he could manage. 

“What’s up?” Spencer asked, neither of them aware of Jon’s eyes looking to the space behind Brendon.

“Seems like I interrupted something.” He noted and Spencer bit his lip.

“Uh….”

“It’s cool dude, we all know.” Brendon rolled his eyes and moved to the couch.

Spencer swallowed and asked, “What have you been up to today?”

“Nothing much, really, just went to the library.”

It was then that Jon turned to Brendon and gave him an incredulous look. “Bren, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly apologize for being so late on this chapter, I just couldn't decide where I wanted it to go and schoolwork and general ughhhh but i promise i am back now! i still don't think this chapter turned out great but that's just part of being a writer for me. anyway, please (even tho i don't deserve it) maybe leave a kudos or a comment? even tho i'm late i still luv you all and i promise for realsies this time an update next sunday so see you then!


	6. Spencer's Scared Stiff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm spooky?"
> 
> "Very spooky."

Ryan didn’t think that it was possible for him to get paler. His eyes were wide and his mouth was agape as he stared at Brendon’s friend, who could fucking see him. Oh no. Oh shit. Fuck. He remembered the last time this happened, way back in 1994.

_“Come on Ryan! No one’s going to see you anyway, what are you so worried about?” Mikey asked, dragging Ryan by his hand._

_“I don’t know,” Ryan laughed it off, running along with his best friend._

_“Also Gerard would freak if he knew, because he’s into all of that spooky stuff.”_

_“I’m spooky?”_

_“Very spooky.” Mikey stopped for a minute to bop Ryan’s nose before dragging him along again. Ryan smiled as Mikey pulled through his front door. Ryan had been here some thirty years ago when he was a kid for some birthday party. He didn’t think that that kid and him had talked more than twice afterwards._

_Mikey immediately ran up the stairs, saying a quick “hello!” to his mom as he ushered Ryan along._

_Ryan couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous, as he was never good at being around people. With Mikey, it was easy, but back when he’d been alive in high school he’d never exactly had many friends. He’d only had Andy, but of course he’d managed to fuck that relationship up. Shaking his head, he pushed those memories to the back of his head, telling himself that more than twenty years had passed since that moment._

_Ryan followed Mikey into the room that he knew he shared with his brother, Gerard. Mikey sat down on his bed with a huge smile, acting nonchalant as usual. Ryan decided to remain by the doorway and watched Mikey and his brother interact. It wasn’t much, as Gerard had his headphones in and was playing some game on his bulky computer. Honestly, Ryan didn’t understand computers and probably never will. He figured that it was a side-effect of being born in the 60s._

_Mikey said a quick “Hello!” to his brother, who barely reacted. He was too interested in whatever he was doing on that box thing._

_Behind Gerard’s back Mikey ushered for Ryan who hesitantly stepped over. On his way, Ryan bumped into the desk and knocked Gerard’s pens to the floor. They met the floor with a loud clang, startling Gerard._

_“What the fuck?” Gerard said aloud and Ryan paled._ Oh no, _he thought,_ this is bad, this is very very bad, oh shit, I’m fucked. _Mikey looked scared and kept glancing from Gerard to Ryan._

_“Mikey? How’d you do that?” Gerard looked away from the mess of pens to his brother. His eyes were wide and scared as he kept glancing at Ryan._

_“What are you looking at?” Gerard turned and looked at where Ryan was standing and looked confused._

_“Nothing, I’m not looking at anything,” Mikey told him, looking down at his feet._

_“Mikey? I’m serious.” At this point, Gerard sounded almost scared._

_“It’s okay, you can tell him.” Ryan said and shuffled his feet. He really didn’t want anyone to know, but how else could he get out of this situation? Gerard wouldn’t let this go and Mikey would stress about it and it’d be a mess. It’s better to get it all over with._

_“Gerard, meet my friend Ryan.” Mikey said in a shaky breath. Gerard looked confused and stared around, hoping to find anything that could explain what just happened._

_“What friend? I don’t see anyone?” Gerard questioned, eyebrows knitted together._

_“Well, no, you wouldn’t.” Mikey told him, staring at Ryan. “Because he’s dead.”_

Things had gone downhill from there.

Spencer’s voice brought Ryan out of his thoughts and now he focused on the confused look on both Jon and Spencer’s face.

“There’s no one here but me, you and Brendon.” Spencer said, sounding sure in himself yet also confused.

“No, there’s not. There’s that guy standing over there, next to the table.” Jon told him, also confused. Spencer’s eyes looked directly at where Ryan was standing nervously. His hand was tapping against his jeans which was a nervous habit he’d picked up as a child. He’d grown to prefer a particular rhythm, a simple _tap-tap-tappity-tap_ which made him slightly less nervous because of the familiarity.

“I don’t see anyone. Brendon, what’s going on?” Spencer turned to Brendon, who was staring down at the ground. It reminded Ryan of Mikey that night. It was all downhill from this point, he knew.

Brendon didn’t answer him, as he was too busy looking at Ryan and begging for him to do anything, or maybe nothing at all. He’d only seen that look once before, and he’d made the wrong choice. Ryan didn’t want to repeat that night.

As the seconds ticked away, Spencer became more confused and even a little scared.

“Guys? What’s going on?” He asked quietly, glancing around at everyone.

Silence filled the air as the three looked around at each other, avoiding Spencer’s frightened gaze at all costs. How were they supposed to explain something that Spencer could never understand?

“That’s what I’m wondering.” Jon spoke up with a slight waver in his voice. He was staring directly at Ryan, taking in his fearful gaze.

Brendon coughed and everyone’s attention went to him.

“This is my friend, Ryan.” He gestured towards Ryan, who was invisible to Spencer. He looked at Brendon with a puzzled look on his face.

“Bren, there’s no one there.”

“Well, uh, you wouldn’t see him, Spence. Because….because he’s a ghost.”

The room was dead silent.

Ryan’s thoughts almost immediately began spiraling downward. He knew where this was going. He _knew._

“Okay.” Jon said. “Nice to meet you.”

Ryan stared at Jon dumbfounded. Okay? He didn’t care? He couldn’t believe it.

“Okay.” Ryan echoed. Jon smiled softly, obviously not caring.

“I’m not gonna freak out because you’re dead, bro. If I can see you and talk to you that’s fine by me.” Jon told him and Ryan visibly relaxed.

“He’s dead!” Spencer cried out, breaking the silence.

Brendon almost immediately responded. “So?”

“So?” Spencer was nearly shouting and Ryan flinched. “He’s dead! Doesn’t that ring at least one warning bell for you?”

“He’s not some creature, he’s human!” Brendon shouted back.

“That doesn’t-"

“Stop.” Jon broke in. “Who gives a shit if he’s dead? Obviously he’s still here so quit your whining Spence and just say hello to the guy.”

“I can’t see him!” Spencer protested.

“He’s right here.” Brendon gestured towards the empty space. Ryan waved his hand, telling him not to bother with it and took the pen and pad off of the paper.

“Holy fucking shit! Is that him?” Spencer shouted again and both Brendon and Jon nodded.

In his scrawled handwriting Ryan wrote out ‘hey, I’m Ryan’ and slid it over to Spencer. He visibly flinched as some invisible force slid his pad to him.

A long moment passed before Spencer said anything.

“Okay, you know what? There's a ghost. That's completely normal.” Spencer sighed and leaned back into Jon, who put an arm around his shoulders.

Brendon audibly exhaled and sat down next to Ryan.

“So, uh, Ryan.” Spencer turned his gaze to the space right next to Ryan and Brendon grinned.

“Over here Spence.” Brendon pointed to where Ryan was sitting.

He rolled his eyes and flipped Brendon off. “Okay, so Ryan, just out of curiosity, I mean if you don’t mind me asking, when were you born and uh, when did you uh, you know, die?”

Ryan laughed at Spencer’s awkwardness and soon enough both Jon and Brendon were laughing.

“It’s official.” Spencer said, trying to hide his own smile. “I hate all of you.”

“Tell him I was born in ’57, died in ’74, to answer your question.”

Brendon repeated the info and Spence’s jaw dropped.

“Damn, you’re fucking old dude.”

“You can’t see him, Spence,” Jon said, “but he’s flipping you off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed :D I do apologize for the short chapter especially because i've had inconsistent updates recently but I already have part of the next chapter completed so this next update won't take as long as the last few
> 
> also come hmu on tumblr if you want to @ fields-of-falafel i love talking about ryden and Suffering


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